The only one of those I've ever been on is Cypress Point. Nope, I'm not a golfer, and would barely know which end of the club is which, and really don't care.
In 98, I got offered a job working there in cliff-side reconstruction. The previous couple of winters had brought heavy storms that had eroded much of the existing cliff face. Our job (if you accept it) is to remove loose and broken rock, drill into the cliff, install "grout nails", put up tons of rebar, cover the rebar with shot-crete. The contractor hired "artists" from all over the world to come in and dye and stain the new concrete to look like weathered rock, including bird shit and lichens. When they were done, you could barely tell old rock from the new "imitation" rock.
We had the opportunity to play the course before it opened in the morning or after it closed in the afternoon, and the golfers on the crew were EXTATIC!
me...meh. As with any golf course, there were tons of lost balls in the rough and other places. We found hundreds if not thousands of balls, many from special tournaments and such. We'd collect them and play baseball with them.
One day, my crew had been pulled to go do something else for a couple of hours, so I did maintenance on my crane, and was left...bored as hell for a while...I grabbed a hard-hat full of golf balls out of the storage compartment on the crane and wandered down to the putting green. I threw them out, grabbed a sand rake and started playing pool...of course, when you're fucking off on this kind of scale, you GOTTA get caught doing it...and I did.
I'm down on my hands and knees shooting pool, when a pair of golf shoes walks up next to me and says, "Are you making any?" <shit> Without batting an eye, I replied, "Yes sit Mr. Eastwood, I'm doing ok...how are you? Of all the people to catch me screwing off, it has to be you."
Heh-heh...Clint was always there watching us work. He's one of the only 250 members of the club, and on the BOD. He also ownes (owned?) a club down by Carmel, and we had been in there over the previous few months, moving and transplanting oak trees on the course.
He laughed at catching me screwing off, we talked a bit about what was going on, where we were progressing and where we were having problems, then he wandered off to watch someone else work...
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